


Cold Feet

by SosearchingRomeo (Breakingthestandards)



Category: Romeo e Giulietta - Ama e Cambia il Mondo, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: M/M, Mercutio is the Prince's toyboy, Not Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakingthestandards/pseuds/SosearchingRomeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble for Astray about Mercutio having cold feet and using the Prince as a foot warmer. Prince x Mercutio (Not related).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Astray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/gifts).



* * *

The Prince doesn’t like Mercutio going around barefoot. Call it something silly, because every time he comments on it his advisors raise their brows and Mercutio ignores the comment with a shrug.

The boy, a young man already, loves to feel the ground underneath his soles when he’s at home. In the street he dances on soles that are easily worn. But at home, in the palace, he kicks those shoes off and walks around like a forest fairy.

There would have been no issue if Mercutio’s feet wouldn’t get so awfully cold. There would have been no issue if the boy would not join Escalus in the bed afterwards and curl up against him, cold feet pressing against the Prince’s shins. Or when it would be during the day, the boy would make sure to sit opposite of the Prince and make sure his feet touched the other man’s legs, sending chills down his spine.

The Prince was well aware that Mercutio was doing it all on purpose; that he used him as a foot warmer.  

The worst thing was that he just couldn’t scold the boy for it. Not in public.

Oh, he had done so before, many times actually. He would shout for Mercutio to put on some shoes and to stop being an ignorant child. The last time he was spotted in the hallway shouting loudly he had gathered quite a crowd.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO CATCH MY DEATH?

And Mercutio had just smiled humbly at him – yes, the boy could actually do that. It was an endearing smile, the Prince had to admit. A smile that sent shivers straight down to his cock.

“No, uncle.”

The Prince had then bent forward in a motion so fast that his councillors didn’t see it happen, nor did they hear the whisper that passed his lips. “Come see me tonight.”  
  
Nothing new there.

Mercutio would join him in the bed almost nightly. There were a few exceptions when either the boy was off to a party with his Montague friends, or when he himself had worked all night and never retreated to their bed. To whisper this request wasn’t to let Mercutio know he should come, but rather to warn him that he wasn’t done with him yet. True, Escalus liked Mercutio a lot but his cold extremities sometimes made him reconsider. Something had to be done!

The door to his room opened that night as he lay musing on the bed.

 _Uncle._ A foul word used as a distasteful lie. He knew he had chosen to deceive every and all around him. He knew that when he brought Mercutio with him people would ask and he would have to answer – and power mattered too greatly to him to damage his reputation. Men loving men wasn’t quite cheered upon by the King, and so Prince Escalus had come up with the foul lie that Mercutio was his nephew.

Mercutio was a boy he’d brought to fill his lonely nights. The boy had been pretty, available, promising. And the Prince had been powerful and demanding. But Mercutio had never shown that he had regrets or that he disliked the situation Escalus had brought him in. The boy would come to his bed meekly, would show him that subordinate smile he only wore in private, would kneel and taste his flesh without hesitating a beat, would please him with eager fingers.

Really, that Mercutio had cold feet was a tiny flaw, a little error the Prince wanted for his lovely boy to prevent. “Wear shoes.” He muttered between kisses. “If not for God’s sake then for mine. Wear socks.”

But as Mercutio crawled over him and sat on top, knees at either side, the promise of a night of bliss visible in his eyes, he pressed his cold heels into the Prince’s thighs and grinned down wickedly.

How could the Prince complain?


End file.
